The Phoenix Feathers
by Spunkz the wacked out Spaz
Summary: Rated R for some violence and horror. Set in Harry's fifth year, a dream sparks off the unraveling of a different story. Can the Hogwarts staff sort it out with help from the students? Or will it end in bloodshed, horror and ultimately, death?


Disclaimer: I don't own it. So what? Sue me. I dare ya!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Phoenix Feathers ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
We at Hogwarts are slightly concerned  
  
Although Dumbledore his respect has earned,  
  
The Dark Lord continues killing those who defy  
  
We attempt to kill him but he will not die!  
  
Six are involved; they're going to make the deed done  
  
But only four will ever return.  
  
~Trelawney's Prediction~  
  
Harry Potter lay in his bed at the Dursley's. Barely a day went past when he wasn't deep in thought about the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year. He was beginning to get over it. He knew that Dumbledore had contacted the Durselys about the circumstances and they wear being considerably nicer to him.  
  
But it couldn't last. No. This was Surrey. Harry had been locked in his room for a minor offence. Dudley had got over the shock that his cousin had nearly been murdered and had started teasing him about Cedric. Harry's patience had gone and he had hurled a china dish at Dudley's head. Luckily, Dudley had ducked but the dish had shattered.  
  
Vernon had lost his temper completely and hit Harry hard round the head. Harry had collapsed, stunned, and Vernon had thrown him in his room and locked him in. There was still an hour to wait until sunset. It was only 10 o'clock.  
  
Harry decided to get some sleep and turned the light off. Five minutes later, his breathing became regular and he slept.  
  
He dreamt he was back at Hogwarts. That he had just left a Potions Lesson. For once, he had got through the lesson without getting told off. Snape seemed different... tired and wasted.  
  
"Potter?" He asked as the class were packing their books away.  
  
"Sir?" Harry asked, his stomach turning leaden. What had he done now? Not wanting to witness the inevitable bollocking Harry was expecting, the rest of the class filed out, leaving the Boy Who Lived alone with the Potions Master.  
  
"Potter... Harry... I have a favour to ask of you." Snape sighed.  
  
"Yes sir?" Harry asked. He reckoned that if he accepted the favour then Snape wouldn't take points off.  
  
"Potter, you must not be at Hogwarts over Christmas."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You must go home for Christmas. And Weasley and Granger too." Snape sighed again. "Terrible things will happen. You must not be here! I am not talking about a prediction or a possibility, Potter, you must understand! I am talking about the cold truth! There may be bloodshed. There may be death. Please, keep Lily and James alive. Save yourself. Go home for Christmas."  
  
"But sir!" Harry protested. "Sir, I can't go back to the Dursleys'! They hate me! I live here! At Hogwarts!"  
  
"Then go to the Weasleys'. Go to the Grangers'. Ask if you may go to the Finnegans'. Even the Malfoys' will be safer than Hogwarts is going to be over Christmas!"  
  
"Malfoy. Urgh!" Harry muttered. There was no way he was going to the Malfoys' for Christmas.  
  
"Think about what I have said, Potter. It may save your life."  
  
The Potions Master beckoned Harry to leave the classroom and set off towards his own quarters near the Slytherin common room. Harry walked in the opposite direction down the corridor.  
  
He had nearly reached the end of the hallway when he heard a cry from behind him. It was a scream of such abject pain and pure terror that it froze his blood.  
  
"Professor Snape!" He gasped, racing back down the corridor towards the Slytherin territory. He rushed past the Potions classroom.  
  
He didn't get much further. He had frozen.  
  
Professor Severus Snape lay limply in the middle of the corridor, his head lolled to one side. There was blood smeared on the wall. It was fresh. At first Harry wasn't sure if his Potions Master had been killed or not, but then it all became clear in one dreadful rush.  
  
A wand that Harry recognised as Voldemort's was embedded deep in Snape's narrow chest, the point lodged in his heart.  
  
Snape's sightless, dead black eyes stared blankly into Harry's own before the icy dread and awful realisation hit the boy.  
  
"Oh god! NO!" He cried in disbelief. The pitiful limp form on the floor in front of him had been a living, breathing person not five minutes ago. Harry broke down next to his Potions Master, sobbing. He never wanted it to be like this, even though he had hated the man with a fiery passion and vice versa. It should never have ended like this.  
  
He had to find Dumbledore! He had to find Dumbledore! To his luck, Professor Lupin, who was back as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, was walking down the corridor.  
  
"Professor!" Harry yelled, fighting back the tears. The image of Snape lying there, covered in blood and himself standing, helpless kept flooding back into his mind like a great tidal wave, blocking out other thoughts.  
  
"Why, yes Harry? What seems to be the problem?" Lupin asked pleasantly.  
  
"It's Sn - Professor Snape. He... I think he's... de - hurt."  
  
"I know, Harry." Lupin answered gently.  
  
"Well, shouldn't we get help?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, Harry. Severus can't stop us anymore. He's been dealt with." Lupin smiled coldly.  
  
"What? We have to tell Dumbledore!"  
  
"Dumbledore is ... indisposed. Our way is clear now. You must understand this. You are the last obstacle." Lupin advanced towards Harry, who backed away shaking his head.  
  
"Professor, what are you talking about? We need to get help! Where is Dumbledore?"  
  
"Dumbledore is beyond helping you. So is Severus."  
  
"Owl Sirius! Sirius will help!"  
  
"Sirius cannot help you anymore. Neither can I. You are the final barrier we must tackle for the glory of the Dark Lord!"  
  
Black shapes began materialising behind Lupin. Three of them were holding things. They dumped their burdens where Harry could easily see. Three bruised bodies lay prone on the floor. Their bloodless faces staring unseeing at the ceiling.  
  
"RON! HERMIONE! SIRIUS! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-" Harry cried. Lupin, the Death Eaters and the bodies of his friends faded to a swirling pit of darkness.  
  
"-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" Harry sat up in bed. His scar was aching steadily and his pillow was wet with sweat. He heard heavy footsteps and a moment later the door was flung open and the light turned on. Through tears he looked up to see Uncle Vernon, looking madder than ever before.  
  
"What - the - HELL - do - you - think - you're - doing?" Vernon hissed. "Screaming, yelling, making enough noise to wake the entire NEIGHBORHOOD! What was going on?"  
  
"Nothing. I just had a bad dream. That's all..." Harry muttered. Vernon eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"Thank the gods that your off my hands from tomorrow, boy." He growled, before turning the light off and slamming the door shut.  
  
It took a while for Harry to understand what he meant. And then he remembered. He was going round to Hermione's from tomorrow, which was his birthday, to the end of the summer holidays. How could he forget?  
  
He turned over and covered himself with the thin, worn sheets, severely hoping that the terrible dream did not come back to haunt him for the rest of the night. 


End file.
